


Zombification

by entanglednow



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-06
Updated: 2009-11-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Don't thank me, you're a zombie, by rights I should chop your head off!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zombification

When Dean gets back to the motel Sam throws holy water in his face.

"Oh, that's really starting to get old," he says through his teeth.

"You're dead," Sam says carefully. Or, well actually it's more of an accusation.

"I am not dead," Dean protests. "Don't be stupid." He thinks they've maybe done this enough times that Sam could take his word for it now and again.

"Oh really," Sam makes a point of _looking_ at him, and he's doing that in a slightly creepier way than normal. "Take your pulse."

Dean scoffs and puts two fingers to his wrist, then after a couple of minutes he tries his neck, fails miserably to find any sign he's alive.

"Crap."

"Yeah." Sam's voice shakes ever so slightly, and he's got that look on his face, that look that doesn't know whether it wants to be upset, horrified or annoyed.

It looks kinda constipated.

"I don't feel dead," Dean offers, because that's got to count for something.

"Dude, you- you kinda look dead." Sam's face is doing a _thing_.

"Gee, thanks Sammy."

"Don't thank me, you're a zombie, by rights I should chop your head off!"

"You're not chopping my head off!" Dean says immediately, and not a little angrily, though he thinks maybe it's appropriate to the situation.

"Dean, you're a zombie. A _zombie_."

Which yeah, Sam doesn't have to keep repeating it in that voice. Dean knows what a zombie it.

"I'm not a zombie, Zombies are all-" he pulls a face, makes a gesture that even he doesn't fully understand. But he thinks it gives a good idea of exactly what zombies are. "Zombies are all gross."

Sam stares at him for a slightly longer minute, then sighs expansively and steps out of the way to let him back in the room.

They stand there awkwardly for just long enough for it to get uncomfortable.

"I'm hungry," Dean doesn't miss the way Sam flinches at that, but he carefully ignores it. "Can zombies eat pie?"

"I think zombies mostly eat brains," Sam says carefully.

"Dude, brain flavoured pie would just be wrong." Which Dean thinks is a perfectly sensible thing to say.

Sam rubs at the crease between his eyes, possibly in the vain hope that it will go away.

"Dean, seriously, lets not think about eating, because really, I'm barely hanging on to today as it is and the prophecy-"

Dean flung his arms out.

"The prophecy said I die, and I'm officially dead, and still hot. I'm going to class that as a win."

Sam's expression twists into something unimpressed.

"You might not stay hot," he points out. "You're a zombie, you might start to-" he's clearly floundering for the right way to say whatever it is he's going to say.

"What?!"

"To decompose," Sam finishes sadly.

Which, come to think of it, yeah, that's quite a disturbing thought. Dean doesn't want to decompose.

"Proper zombies don't heal right, I man that's the whole point, no healing, you eventually just fall apart." He makes a 'falling apart' sort of gesture that Sam flinches away from in horror.

Then he picks the knife up off of the table and after a sensible pause to decide whether he really wants to do this-

-he sticks it through his hand.

Sam takes a step, one hand held out. "Jesus, don't put a hole in yourself-"

And it's nice that Sam can be surprised into still caring about his dead well-being.

It doesn’t actually hurt, at all, he's looking at the knife in his hand, he can feel it stuck all the way through, but it doesn't hurt, at all.

"Dean, pull it out, seriously man, pull it out right now."

Sam's uncharacteristically squeamish all of a sudden.

But he does pull it out, slowly, curiously.

They both watch, fascinated, as Dean's hand knits itself back together again, almost too fast to follow.

Holy crap, he's a super zombie!

"So, I guess that's a no on the whole ' _decomposing_ ' then huh?"

Sam's quiet for one stunned minute, standing there with his mouth open unattractively.

"Oh, dear god, you're going to be unstoppable aren't you?" He says finally.

Dean flashes him a pale grin.

  



End file.
